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Chapter XXIII

Dedicated to Skittles1297

"Angel blades are skeptical about their wielder and they demand a certain level of skill." - Ghost

Chapter XXIII

My pencil pressed against a blank page of my sketchbook and I started drawing, letting my mind run wild and imagination flow as I pressed my pencil against the paper, feeling as if I just focused enough I could finally relax.

It has been a few days since I had last seen Lucas. He did not appear to be in a hurry to meet up again, yet he did keep on sending me messages; even during the middle of the night, which made me wonder if he ever slept. I did have to admit to myself that I enjoyed talking to him though, even if it wasn't exactly face-to-face.

I stayed mostly low during those days, focusing mostly on keeping up with my work and drawing and painting in my free time. Occasionally I read some lore books and studied Christopher's note and journal – looking at his letter to me again and again until I memorized it completely.

The most exciting thing I did is training with Ghost to learn to control Glorious. I liked to say I was making progress, but it was hard to say for sure without testing my theory. And Ghost still said I wasn't ready to wield the blade in an actual battle without any risks. Most of the time, wielding Glorious gave me a headache. The blade seemed to love sending me memories of battles from long times past which ended up overwhelming me. Ghost told me it was just something I needed to get through.

Noticing my pencil stopped moving, I looked down at what I had drawn. As it was most days, it was a drawing of Lucas. He stood on the rooftop of a tall building, the skyline of Manhattan behind him, with his large wings spread out. He stared down at something outside the paper with a furious expression on his delicate face.

I shook my head and quickly closed my sketchbook, feeling my heart clench upon seeing his hateful eyes, even if it was just through a drawing.

"What did you draw?" Ghost asked. I looked up from the chair I was seated on in my studio and saw my Guardian Angel perched on the windowsill a few feet above the ground, his feet dangling in the air. "You seem rather upset with it."

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," I said and put my sketchbook away.

His clear eyes rested on me for a while before he shrugged his shoulders and jumped down, landing soundlessly and gracefully on the floor. "You ready to practice some more?" He asked.

Putting my sketchbook away, I nodded my head and swung my backpack over my shoulder. "Sure. Let's go," I said. Ghost stepped in front of me. He put his hand on my shoulder and the world whirled around us with a whooshing sound. When everything stopped spinning, I took a shaky step back and found my balance, standing tall.

I stepped away from the Archangel and looked around at the clearing we were at. We were standing on a large grass field, surrounded by tall trees and mountains rising in the distance. When training me, Ghost took me to different scenarios and numerous places scattered all around the world. Once we went to a deserted part of the Himalaya mountains with snow and thin air, a tropical rainforest with thick trees, the top of a waterfall and this time a grass field.

"Where are we this time?" I asked him.

"Somewhere in France," was the reply I got. I stared at the angel, with the sunlight creating a halo around his head he looked every part divine as he was supposed to.

"Alright," I said, knowing there was no point in asking him as to why he chose to bring me to France out of all places. "What are we going to do this time?"